


tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

by vivalagay



Series: #stanhoneypup (honeypup one shots) [6]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Best Friends, Kissing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Teenagers, ballerino!mh, read a/n for w/tw(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalagay/pseuds/vivalagay
Summary: Minhyuk fears that he'll fuck up having to be a bit more independent, and Jooheon fears that somehow they'll find themselves slowly growing apart. It's not something to confess. It's stupid, anyway. Jooheon always fears the silliest things, and he knows deep inside of him that there is so much Minhyuk depends on him for. He never misses the chance to tell Jooheon how important he is in his life and how he's happy that they're friends. Jooheon knows he's important. He just —He worries some days when he won't be that important anymore.or, Jooheon tries to deal with change.





	tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I'M MAD BECAUSE I WAS SAD AND JUST WANTED A BALLERINO MH FIC SO I COULD COMFORT MYSEFLF WITH SCENES OF MH BALLET DANCING AND I WENT THROUGH THIS WHOLE F UCKING FIC AND FORGOT TO WRITE SCENES OF MH FUCKING BALLET DANCING  
>   
> so bet your ass sooner or later i'm going to write another ballerino mh fic  
>   
> w/tw: referenced underage drinking, implied rape, mention of blood ~~ugh sorry about these warnings, but it's not that explicit~~

The sky is black above the two boys, allowing the twinkling to show so brightly that Jooheon feels a little far away, as if he's somewhere within a dream. He assumes, though, that it's mostly from his first taste of beer that night, or his best friend's infectious smile that makes him forget about everything else. It's true that maybe Minhyuk is always smiling, but Jooheon likes to think that it's most genuine when it is just the two of them.

They'd been camped out on the roof of Minhyuk's house since the end of his graduation party, and it feels good for them to be left alone. Jooheon had been waiting to be with Minhyuk since he'd woken up this morning. His best friend was surrounded by people each second of the day; Jooheon hadn't even had the chance to congratulate him before another interruption appeared to brush him aside. He knew how much Minhyuk didn't really like any family beyond his parents and brother to begin with, but of course, Minhyuk is good with smiling and nodding. Jooheon thinks he's really the only one who can see behind it. See the way it doesn't reach his eyes and how Minhyuk is so vibrant when he's smiling. Really smiling.

(It's like a sigh of relief to be with him. Just the two of them.)

"We should pull an all nighter," Minhyuk tells him, soda and a slice of cake in hand as he climbs back through the window to the roof. It's said as a suggestion, but Jooheon already knows that if Minhyuk pulls an all nighter, then he's already expected to pull one with him. Really, there's no way around it.

But Jooheon is pretty awake, anyway. His eyelids are light, and there's much left for them to do and say, like watching TV and arguing over whose turn it is to sit in the red bean bag chair downstairs.

"Sure," Jooheon replies, taking the can of Pepsi from him, "but if you fall asleep on me again, I'm pulling a prank on you."

Minhyuk smiles. It's a little chilly tonight, though he's only in a tee shirt and boxers, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders that's not quite big enough to shelter the both of them. But it's Minhyuk, so he tries to anyway. "You wouldn't pull a prank on me," he claims. 

Jooheon defensively lifts his brows. "Are you sure about that?"

"You can't even get your lazy ass off the bed to close the door. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't put in the time organizing a prank."

Instantly, Jooheon shakes up the can of soda, instantly sending Minhyuk squealing and frantically shoving at his chest.

" _Lee Jooheon!_ Don't you dare!"

"That's what I thought," he teasingly smirks. Minhyuk only halfheartedly hits his arm before pulling Jooheon into him again, tugging the blanket back onto the younger boy's shoulders for warmth. "But, really, please don't fall asleep on me."

"I won't fall asleep on you," Minhyuk promises, smiling with a roll of his eyes. He swirls a finger through the butter cream icing thickly spread on the top layer of the cake and sucks it off, staring into his neighborhood. Jooheon can see his own from up here, the tiny houses that have made up his small world for the past eighteen years. 

"Have you figured out what you're doing yet? Where you're going from here?" Jooheon decides to ask. He rests his head back against the roof, the cool soda can resting between his legs, and watches Minhyuk's eyes trail over to him, contemplating.

He's never really liked questions as these—Minhyuk. Neither of them are really ones for thinking, anyway, but what makes them a little different is that Jooheon can't approach something unknowingly, without everything planned and set out for him. Without knowing where and how things will end up. Minhyuk has always been comfortable with the thought of things just _happening_ where they may, always quick finding a way to adapt and work with the things that just come for him.

(Sometimes Jooheon admires it.)

"I guess school for now, and then something else? Something to busy my time with," Minhyuk tells him, nodding along with his words as if he's just now planning this as he goes. He hums, ruminating on it a little more, before settling with a shrug. "I guess that's it for now. I don't even really know what will happen with that ballet company I'd auditioned for, but my hope is sort of withering away with that. It's been two months since my audition, and I haven't even received a newsletter."

"That could mean anything. It takes time for people to decide this stuff, you know? They probably love you already, but they're still in the middle of decision making," Jooheon says, sure of his words. He squeezes his best friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

Minhyuk chews his lips, and then settles for a slow nod, pulling his eyes to the neighborhood once again with a small smile. 

Jooheon knows that it's not really much of a validation. To him, Minhyuk is perfect at what he does, _always_ perfect, like nothing he has ever seen. But his oblivion to what exactly makes one good enough to be accepted to a ballet theatre obscures any of his flaws. Jooheon knows that, in a way, many of his words are meaningless when it comes to Minhyuk's aspirations. He also knows that, nevertheless, Minhyuk still appreciates it. 

"I've been thinking about life a lot lately," Minhyuk voices, suddenly. "It's sort of weird that we're getting older. Now, I have to think about whether or not I want to live with my parents for freshman year, and it's kind of exciting, but then it's not really so exciting anymore, you know? I don't know. There's more responsibilities now. I don't know if I can handle them all. It takes everything out of me to even do my own laundry, and now I'm sort of growing up to do so many of my own things for myself. I don't really know how to feel about it. It's like we were just little, stupid kids a second ago, and now we're not really anymore."

Jooheon laughs at this. "We're still little, stupid kids. When we're thirty with children, we'll still be little, stupid kids."

"Well, yeah."

It's not really the words that Minhyuk was looking for. Jooheon can sense it just in the way he shuffles a little, chewing at his lips again.

"I do admit that it is sort of scary," Jooheon quickly tells him. "Things are changing."

Minhyuk nods, staring off somewhere that Jooheon can't find. "Yeah. They are."

Though, they fear change for two different reasons. Minhyuk fears that he'll fuck up having to be a bit more independent, and Jooheon fears that somehow they'll find themselves slowly growing apart. It's not something to confess. It's stupid, anyway. Jooheon always fears the silliest things, and he knows deep inside of him that there is so much Minhyuk depends on him for. He never misses the chance to tell Jooheon how important he is in his life and how he's happy that they're friends. Jooheon knows he's important. He just —

He worries some days when he won't be that important anymore.

His head slips onto Minhyuk's shoulder, absently, the can now dripping condensation onto his thighs. "Is it too early to say that I'm going to miss being a little idiot with you?"

"There isn't going to be anything for you to miss." Minhyuk pulls himself closer to Jooheon, as much closer as he possibly can, a hand trailing from his spine to rest on the younger boy's shoulder. "College won't change how close we are."

"You have to promise."

"I promise," he whispers to him. "But you have to promise not to be a little idiot with anyone else whenever I'm away."

"Even Changkyun?"

Minhyuk nods, quickly. "Even Changkyun."

"I guess I can accept that," Jooheon murmurs with a chuckle. His eyes trail up to Minhyuk, surprised to see that he's already looking at him, his face now closer than he'd thought. Jooheon flashes a smile on impulse, sloppy and stupid, and he thinks that Minhyuk will smile back at him, but he only stares. An inexplicable stare that Jooheon desperately tries to comprehend, boring into him as if they're looking for something that isn't there. 

Minhyuk's hand slips to his side, their noses brushing, and it's almost as if Jooheon can already feel Minhyuk's lips grazing his own before the space is even closed between them. He's never felt _this_ unsure of what to do. How to move. How to react.

Minhyuk seems just as confused as he is, except he moves, does _something._ Jooheon is too stunned to close his eyes when their lips come together.

It isn't awkward, but Jooheon never moves. He isn't used to this — things just happening. Surely this is something that a few talks in the mirror prior would've done some good. He assumes that maybe he should've expected it, in a way. They've shared other kisses. The little pecks in elementary school count, and the time when they were thirteen and Minhyuk had talked Jooheon into kissing him at a sleepover once they'd both confessed they'd never been kissed before.

But it's been a while since then. They're older. Things start becoming less just _somethings_ and start to have more meaning. Jooheon doesn't know what the meaning of any of this is.

He isn't sure where to end the kiss, so he lets Minhyuk pull away instead, cheeks pink, hand still on his side, before their eyes find the starry night once again in silence. He's a little unsure where they go from here, just like how he's been unsure since Minhyuk had looked at him in a way he thinks no one else has.

"You never drank the soda," Minhyuk suddenly states, almost as quiet as a whisper.

Jooheon looks at his wet legs at the mention of it. He doesn't really care about the soda anymore, but he pops open the can anyway, the two boys screaming as they're showered in sprays of Pepsi.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

By the end of the month, Jooheon starts school again, and Minhyuk moves twenty minutes away to live with two guys he'd met online from his college.

It's not too bad, or at least not as bad as Jooheon imagined it to be. Minhyuk has just always been a walking distance from Jooheon in the neighborhood beside his that shows a contrast far too conspicuous to actually be placed side-by-side.

The houses on Jooheon's street are all small and white and yellow, each built as two houses in one, whereas Minhyuk's neighborhood is all of tall houses built fifteen years ago, if they weren't torn down and rebuilt the year before. On Minhyuk's street, his family lived in the smallest one, but Jooheon still liked it better than his own. It always felt homey, even with the few vacant rooms, and he could be as loud as he wanted in Minhyuk's house without worrying about the neighbors reporting it to the landlord.

Jooheon had tried to move into the empty room beside Minhyuk's when they were young, and then it'd become a little joke between them that Jooheon would move in with him once they were older, into the empty room beside Minhyuk's that looks out into the front yard. Jooheon wonders if Minhyuk still thinks about that now that he has housemates of his own.

"Look," Minhyuk smiles when Jooheon comes to visit him for the first time, pointing a finger to a photo of them stuck in the corner of a mirror in his room. Underneath the tickets of Jooheon and Minhyuk's first concert is where he's captured two years ago with his hyung's arms tightly wrapped around him. It's nighttime, so the flash only catches them in a background of darkness, attached to each other. Minhyuk still finds it funny how Jooheon has a blank face, eyes narrowed to the camera, while Minhyuk grinned widely beside him. The happiest in the world. "This is the first thing I put up."

Jooheon laughs. He believes it.

Minhyuk has only moved in two weeks ago, but it already looks as if he's been in this room for months. Posters have been hung up all over the walls, of inspirational typography quotes Minhyuk's mom buys to cheer him up and topless male models, and his clothes are littered around the floor with books and and a pair of old ballet shoes that for some reason his best friend still hasn't gotten rid of.

"How do you like it here?" Jooheon asks, although he can already tell that Minhyuk likes it a lot. He seemed very happy when Jooheon had arrived, off washing dishing with one of his roommates, Hyunwoo, and instantly scurrying off, wet hands and all, to jump into Jooheon's arms once his other roommate, Kihyun, opened the door for him.

Minhyuk plops onto his bed of a grey and white designed duvet and pats the spot beside him. "I love it here," he says, beaming as Jooheon sits beside him, pulling his legs onto the covers. "I was scared that I'd feel left out a lot, but I never do. It's like being a part of another small family. They're really nice to me."

"That's good," Jooheon smiles. "Uh, do they know about —"

Minhyuk quickly shakes his head. "No."

"What?" He brings his voice to a whisper, leaning in closer to him with a hand gripping at his elbow. "You can't just not tell them, hyung. You live with them."

"I won't keep it away from them forever."

"What if something happens and they don't know how to help you?"

Minhyuk nonchalantly brushes away the thought with a wave of his hand. "Nothing will happen! I made a cute schedule of my meds, and I'm doing really well with keeping it up."

Jooheon looks to his hands.

"Don't worry about me," Minhyuk pleads. His smile widens, an arm snaking around the younger boy's torso. "I'm an adult now, right? A _responsible_ adult. I know how to take care of myself."

"I know." He looks up at him, nodding, "I trust you."

Minhyuk rests his chin on Jooheon and fingers the golden name tag pinned to his blazer. He's still in his uniform—tie now loosened, button-down wrinkled and tucked into the gym pants he hadn't taken off after class. Jooheon had hopped onto the bus heading to Minhyuk's house as soon as school ended, even if he were tired.

"Let's talk about you now, okay?" Minhyuk decides. "How's the last year looking?"

"Well, I hate it."

He laughs. "Of course. That's all?"

"Yeah, basically. I wish I had more to tell you, but life is just pretty much the same."

"That's okay. It's only been two weeks. There will be more for you to tell me once you're deeper in the year. Have you eaten already? How about you stay for dinner?"

Jooheon chuckles. "It's midnight, hyung."

"Kihyun probably wouldn't mind making something for you, if you haven't eaten already."

"I'm fine. I should head back home anyway. I forgot to tell my parents that I'd be stopping by to visit you."

"They're going to be mad at you," Minhyuk sighs. He gently twists one of Jooheon's short curls around his finger before slowly lifting his chin. "You should go."

"Okay." 

They hug, and then Minhyuk walks him to the door where they hug again, the older boy's face warm buried in his neck and his arms around his waist.

"I love you," he tells him, a hand patting his back. "Visit again soon?"

"I'll try every week." Jooheon squeezes Minhyuk's shoulder and pulls away with a smile. 

"Tell Changkyun that I love him too. He only replies to my texts if I send him a meme."

Jooheon chuckles. "I'll tell him. Love you, too."

His parents aren't mad at him for coming home two hours later without an explanation. In fact, they don't even know that he is home. His dad is somewhere typing away on his computer, which probably means that he hasn't moved a muscle the whole day, and his mother is nowhere to be found. Jooheon doesn't care, of course. His father is always on deadlines with his writing, and his mother is always doing whatever she does when she's not at the house. Of course, it's been this way for so long that Jooheon doesn't care anymore.

Once he drags himself down the hall to his room, he throws his blazer onto the chair of his desk and drops onto his bed, legs aching. Not until he'd slowed his footsteps in front of his house, fishing the key from his pocket, did the burning begin swallowing his muscles whole. Jooheon is pretty sure it would've been a better idea waiting until tomorrow—when the weekend begins—to catch a bus to Minhyuk's, but he'd missed him so much that he'd just decided against it. It'd felt weird sitting at a lunch table every day without Minhyuk sitting down beside him, arms of sleeves a little too long tightly clinging onto his waist, and it'd felt even more weird not having him clinging onto his side on the way home from school.

Jooheon already knew it'd feel a little strange. Maybe he'd imagined it feeling a little different.

He doesn't bother crawling underneath the covers of his bed. A sigh slips his lips, slow and quiet, before he flutters his eyes closed. Jooheon silently hopes that once he graduates he will be able to feel as happy as Minhyuk.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

"I need more sleep," Changkyun grumbles, hand pushing through his dark hair. Jooheon could've told him he'd needed more sleep from the second he'd saw his friend trudging along the sidewalk, uniform unusually crinkled, eyes droopy behind the lenses of his glasses. His friend sighs at the amused smile Jooheon gives his messy hair and attempts running his fingers through it again into something decent."I fell asleep in the bathroom this morning, and I was still in the middle of peeing."

Jooheon laughs, thumbs hooking onto the straps of his backpack. "Good going."

Changkyun only gives him a smile before kicking his boot at a rock. They both watch it roll off, expressionless, and sigh. This week was already showing itself to be long and dreadful. Jooheon assumes that he shouldn't have stayed up for so long texting Minhyuk on a school night, but then again, he's always up too late texting Minhyuk on a school night.

"You ready for that test Mr. Byun is going to give us?" Changkyun asks. After a few steps, he kicks at the rock again.

 _"Test?"_ Jooheon exclaims, gaping at the amused smile tugging at the younger boy's lips. "What test?"

"The test he'd told us about last week?"

"That guy is the devil!" Jooheon whines. This time, he angrily kicks his sneaker at the rock, sending it flying off in the road. Changkyun pouts. "How do I keep up with all these damn tests? It's only been the third week and he's already given us four!"

"But they're so easy."

"Yeah, I'm sure they're really easy for you."

Changkyun looks at him with a smile, lifting a hand to block the sunlight from his eyes. "It comes with a study guide, hyung."

"So what? I tried using that study guide to cheat on a test the first week of school and I still failed!"

His friend lets out a loud laugh, teeth pressed into his lip as he leans a hand onto Jooheon's arm. Changkyun doesn't even try to pretend to have sympathy for him. "Hey," he says, suddenly stopping his steps along the sidewalk and pulling Jooheon along with him, a hand gripping the taller boy by the elbow, "wanna skip?"

Jooheon grins. "Glad you asked."

They find themselves at the abandoned train track after some walking, dropping their backpacks into the grass and walking along the railway as if it's a tightrope. Jooheon used to always hate it here, because even if he knew a train would never come, he'd always feared there being a time where it would.

"I visited Minhyuk last Friday." 

"Yeah?" Changkyun punches a straw into his bottle of banana milk. "How is he doing?"

The wind weaves through his curls, but Jooheon still tugs the blazer from his arms, tossing it over his shoulder as Changkyun passes the milk to him. "Good," he replies through a sip. "Well, really good. He's happy. He told me to tell you that he said hi."

"You still pretending that you don't like him?"

Jooheon halts his footsteps at this, lips slowly pulling from around the straw. Changkyun obliviously continues to plod down the railway before him.

"What?" Jooheon utters, eventually.

It's only then that his friend turns to look at him. His hands are buried in the pockets of his pants, the golden color of his name tag catching the light with the innocent smile that he shoots him, as if only then did he became aware of his words.

"Well," Changkyun says once Jooheon is behind him again, pushing the plastic bottle into his hand, "don't you like him?"

Jooheon just stares. "Minhyuk?"

"Yeah."

"What?" Jooheon tiptoes along the track after him with an unstable balance. "Minhyuk is our friend."

"That doesn't answer my question," Changkyun laughs. He hops off the track into the gravel, sucking from the straw of his banana milk.

"It's just complicated."

"How?"

"I don't know," Jooheon sighs. He steps off the track to steal a long sip from Changkyun's bottle. "It just is, okay?"

That's about as far as Jooheon wants to go into it. He doesn't bother himself much with thoughts as these.

(Thoughts for when you're a little younger, a little stupider. When knowing someone for what feels like forever makes them your soulmate and thinking that everything in between and everything after is something simple.)

(Minhyuk is the least simple person Jooheon has ever met — spontaneous, bright, and everything else that Jooheon isn't exactly sure how to handle.)

"Don't be a dumbass," Changkyun says, smiling around his straw.

Jooheon rolls his eyes. As if it's actually that easy.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

"My letter is supposed to be coming in tomorrow," Minhyuk murmurs, distractedly, eyes glued to a decorated sewing machine Jooheon has never seen before, let alone known that Minhyuk even knew how to use. There's a plastic desk now placed in his room that Jooheon notices wasn't there before. Probably something he'd found on sale at a market. Minhyuk takes a liking to little markets filled with a bunch of irrelevant—generally valueless—things.  

("Everything has value," Minhyuk tried explaining to him once, putting together another lampshade to replace the glass one Jooheon accidentally fell into. The fabric he'd wrapped around it looked pretty terrible, but Minhyuk claimed that despite how tragic it looked, he liked it better this way. "Just because you don't see something's worth doesn't mean it's not worth anything.")

Now that he thinks about it, scrutinizing the random sewing machine adorned with a floral design, Jooheon is sure that Minhyuk must have gotten that from a market also. He guesses he should've warned Kihyun and Hyunwoo about that, but then again, he's just happy to see that his best friend is attempting to distract himself with something that isn't the letter and taking his time, watching intently as he stitches some red fabric as assiduously as he can.

"That's exciting," Jooheon smiles. He's stretched out on his stomach, lying on Minhyuk's warm bed with his homework sprawled out in front of him. It's somewhere between one AM and two AM, but Jooheon hasn't bothered leaving. He's thrown his uniform off somewhere, wearing one of Minhyuk's oversized tee shirts that nearly brushes his knees, and he thinks about just ditching school once more.

Surely, with some persuading, he can convince Minhyuk that it won't affect him or his grades.

"I'm freaking out, Jooheon-ah," Minhyuk tells him with a sharp exhale. He looks to Jooheon with a frown and turns back to the sewing machine, slouching. "I'm not even that good of a dancer."

"You're amazing, asshole."

"I'm not even strong like everyone else," the older boy continues. "All the other guys looked so much better at the auditions. They were bigger than me with muscles. The judges must've thought I was auditioning to be a ballerina."

Jooheon narrows his eyes at the side of his face. "If you're just going to sit here insulting yourself, I'm going home."

"It's possible for things to not work out."

"And it's possible for things to work out," Jooheon attempts reassuring him. All he gets from it is a shrug. "Even if you don't make it, that doesn't mean anything. There are so many ballet companies that would be honored to have you even contemplate auditioning for them."

Minhyuk smiles, genuinely, trailing his eyes to the younger boy beaming over at him. "I'm nothing special, Jooheon-ah."

"You're wrong."

The next morning, Jooheon follows Minhyuk out into the yard. It's chilly and he hadn't even had time to step into the shoes he'd left by the door, but Minhyuk's bouncing with anxiety, fingers intertwined with Jooheon as he drags him out to the red mailbox at the end of the road so there's no other choice other than following him.

Minhyuk pulls a handful of envelopes from the mailbox, flipping through each one until he finds his own. The one. "It's here," he says, voice quiet. His eyes are so wide, staring at the at the fancy envelope in his hands. Even the stamp seems expensive. Mesmerized, Minhyuk runs a finger over the logo of the company.

"We don't have all day," Jooheon whines. He grips his best friend by the shoulder and impatiently shakes him. Enough to bring a sheepish smile to his face.

"I'm opening it!" 

Sucking in a breath, Minhyuk rips open the envelope, long fingers carefully sliding a folded letter out as if it were a packaged jewel at his fingertips. His eyes are instantly glued once he's unfolded it. Jooheon stands across from him, waiting. He's suddenly as anxious as Minhyuk shaking him by the shoulder earlier, and he can't even really read Minhyuk's expression now, only being able to watch his brown eyes as they quickly follow the lines of typed sentences.

"So?" Jooheon encourages.

Minhyuk smiles and neatly folds the letter back into place, slipping it into the fancy envelope once again. Slowly, he looks to Jooheon and shakes his head.

"What?"

"I didn't make it," Minhyuk explains, although that wasn't what Jooheon meant. He adds the letter back to the handful and saunters to the front door of the house. Jooheon desperately chases after him.

"That's crazy! Let me see!"

"No, Jooheon-ah," he sighs. "There's nothing to see. I didn't make it."

"You can audition another year, though. Right? You'll surely make it then."

Minhyuk pauses his footsteps in the grass and looks at him. "I don't want to audition another year, Jooheon-ah." His bottom lip quivers, eyes glittering. "I just want to be left alone."

"Okay," Jooheon murmurs.

Minhyuk glances back at him before scurrying inside, the screen door flying closed behind him.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

Jooheon can already tell that there is something wrong even before he opens the door of his house. It hangs in the atmosphere, circling around his home and screaming at him to just turn around and never come back. But he steps inside anyway, with great reluctance, and even before he sees the shattered monitor by the door does he wish that he hadn't.

Most of the house was like this, he realized. Every furniture piece ruined and what's not broken lying on the floor. There isn't much that's not broken.

Hesitantly, Jooheon kicks off his shoes and steps into his parents' office. They're both playwrights and co-workers. Jooheon assumes that when your romantic partner is also your colleague, your relationship is practically dysfunctional and already expected to crumble to rubbish. They were only really happy with each other when they were writing, and when they weren't they did this. 

Unsurprisingly, his dad is the one who's left with the mess, sweeping a shattered vase that'd spilled the dry soil of a dead plant onto the hardwood floor.

"Where's mom?" Jooheon quietly asks. 

He feels uncomfortable, standing there in the doorway. Jooheon always feels this way speaking to his parents. It's like he's intruding in a way. As if he's just here in this house to live, and his only duty is to just stay out of the way.

His dad looks up, irritated with his presence, almost, and then pulls his eyes back to the plant on the floor. "She left. She'll be back, though."

"Writer's block?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

With that, he leaves, running a hand through his curls with a long sigh. He almost goes to call Minhyuk—he'd know what to do, he always did—but he stops himself. Jooheon is going to have to ride this one out alone, and _wow,_ how much the thought had drained him.

He slides to the floor, excepting watery eyes and a lump in his throat too big to swallow, but nothing comes. Jooheon sighs again. He wishes that he hadn't left him, even if Minhyuk had asked him to. Sometimes Jooheon isn't good with this. Sometimes he's not sure when to leave, when to stay, but he knows that he only wishes he would've stayed just so he wouldn't have to deal with his parents.

Jooheon thinks that he's a terrible friend.

He remembers when the two of them were both ten—a few week occurrence before Minhyuk's birthday rolls around—and Minhyuk slept over his house for the first time.

Then, they had only been friends for a little while, but Minhyuk and Jooheon were already convinced that they were meant to be _best_ friends. They'd even mixed blood with each other that afternoon.

He remembers clearly that that year wasn't a good one for his parents. His dad suddenly came down with writer's block in the middle of a project with a deadline, and the stress his parents felt enveloped Jooheon, even if he were told that he shouldn't worry about it. But Jooheon wasn't stupid. He knew that his parents' work was what kept a roof over their heads and food served on their table. He couldn't help thinking of this possibility where they could lose all of it.

Of course, he'd focused on the wrong thing. Once his father's deadline hit and the company dropped him with no mercy, the relationship between his parents crumbled. They shouted at each other about everything. Any word, any movement, could trigger a flame in them. The arguments happened all the time, broke out of nowhere. Jooheon spent every second at home terrified of when they'd get in each other's way and start screaming at each other again. Eventually, his mother would just leave, taking Jooheon with her to his grandmother's where they'd share a bed in the basement.

He cried the night Minhyuk slept over. His father wasn't supposed to be there that night. Jooheon hadn't really talked over the parents situation with him. It wasn't really something you told someone you'd just met, even if Jooheon had mixed blood with him in the backyard where his mother couldn't see. He'd invited him over with intentions of preventing any interactions between his parents at all so that he wouldn't have to just bring the parents situation up with someone he'd just met. Of course, it didn't work that way, and in the middle of the night, his father returned to the house.

Jooheon had woken up to their ear-piercing shouts, tired of their arguments and embarrassed that Minhyuk was lying right there beside him, hearing all of it too, seeing how much of a mess his family was. Jooheon felt like crying, but he held it in and closed his eyes, trying his best to ignore their screams because maybe if he did, it'd all just disappear. Maybe even Minhyuk would just stop hearing it.

And then he heard it. A crash. It was so sudden and unexpected that Minhyuk jumped beside him, and Jooheon pissed himself. Literally.

"Jooheon-ah," Minhyuk asked, shooting up from the bed, "did you just pee?"

Now, it's sort of funny how straightforward Minhyuk can sometimes be, but Jooheon instantly felt heat in his neck, in his cheeks, and he tried to reply, tried so hard, but instead he cried—sobbed—pathetically sitting in pee and crying his eyes out. Jooheon thought he was an ugly crier. He'd always scrunched his face and lips up as an entire embarrassing, snotty mess. Minhyuk didn't find him ugly, though. He'd gave him a hug.

"It's okay," he promised. "I'll take the sheets off the bed, and you can change your clothes."

Jooheon listened to him, because he didn't have any other ideas that were better. As Minhyuk rid the bed of its sheets, he took a quick shower, crying the whole time he'd stood underneath the shower head, and sniffling as he'd pulled his arms and legs through new boxers and a tee shirt. When he'd walked into his room, Minhyuk had stuffed his sheets into the laundry bin, and a sleeping bag in Jooheon's closet was then stretched on the carpeted floor.

Jooheon cried as they laid down together, and Minhyuk hugged him, tightly.

"Stop crying," he pleaded. Jooheon tried, but a hiccup escaped his mouth, and tears were pouring down his face again. "If I tell you something about me, will you stop crying?"

Jooheon nodded, although he couldn't really decide that. But he wiped a hand to his face, waiting for his friend to continue.

In his ear, Minhyuk whispered, "I'm too afraid to sleep by myself. Sometimes I get so afraid that I can't even sleep with my little brother, and then I have to climb into bed with my mom and dad."

Jooheon giggled. Minhyuk giggled also, and Jooheon could finally wipe his tears away. "Thank you," he smiled.

Minhyuk waved him off. "Friends tell each other secrets."

Jooheon wishes now that he would've stayed a little longer. 

Minhyuk is always there for him, always ready to comfort him, and there's just something about him. Something where he can just hold Jooheon, and with one look in his eyes, everything is okay.

Jooheon worries that too often he fails to be there for him too.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

Once the weekend rolls in, Jooheon bikes to Minhyuk's house. He'd called him a few times Friday morning, after deciding that he'd given his best friend enough space, but all his calls only went to voicemail. 

His foot strikes the kickstand. With a stretch, Jooheon buries his hands in the pockets of his black jeans and jogs to the door. As usual, Kihyun is there to swing the door open after a few knocks. He's still clad in flannel pajamas, pushing the door open for Jooheon to enter.

"Good morning," Kihyun greets with a quick bow. Jooheon returns it. There's something that seems a little off about him, but he tugs his lips up at the younger boy with something that looks genuine. Jooheon assumes that he could've just read him wrong.

"Morning," he smiles. "Is Minhyuk here?"

"Yeah." Suddenly, Kihyun's face falls. He steps aside as Jooheon toes off his sneakers and closes the door behind himself.

"Is something wrong with him?"

"I think so," Kihyun replies. He looks off, mouth opening, as if he's contemplating his words. "I haven't seen him in a while."

Jooheon frowns. "Is he not coming out of his room?"

"Yeah. I've tried talking to him a few times, but he says that he just wants to be left alone."

This — that's not something Jooheon can really say that he expected, but he neither can say that he's surprised. That ballet company was Minhyuk's one dream. All he could ever see himself doing for the rest of his life. Jooheon can't really say he's ever really had dreams, but he can only imagine how heartbroken Minhyuk is.

"Maybe you could talk to him?" Kihyun suggests with hopeful eyes. "I don't know, but you two are close, right? Maybe if you speak to him, he'll come out of the room."

"I'll try," Jooheon promises with a small smile. He tries to seem confident in himself, as if he has some sort of magic touch to pull Minhyuk from his room, before nodding to the shorter boy and heading towards the hall of his best friend's room. The door is closed, of course. Jooheon twists the doorknob, a sigh pushing from his lips. Locked. "Hyung, open the door! It's me!"

Jooheon waits, but he's only left with silence.

"I will screw off your doorknob!" he threatens, cheek pressed to the door. "'Save me the trouble and let me in!"

He listens for any small sound of movement, or basically any indication that his best friend is even still alive on the other side of the door, before he digs into his pocket, fishing out his wallet and finding an expired gift card. 

"I'm coming in anyway," he warns. Jooheon waits for a few heart beats, and then slips the gift card between the door, wiggling the doorknob until he's pushed it against the lock, and pushes the door open to a dim-lit room.

The curtains are closed, lights turned off, entirely blocking any sort of illumination from the small space. Though, without it, Jooheon can still make out the bundle of blankets on the bed where Minhyuk lies.

He flicks the light switch on and immediately is met with a groan. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this," Minhyuk rasps. "Please go."

"No." Jooheon plops down beside him. "Tell me what's up."

"Please," Minhyuk begs him. His voice is so small, so weak, so unlike his best friend. Jooheon's heart aches. "Not today, Jooheon-ah."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jooheon asserts. "You have to get up. Your housemates are worried."

"I know, and I hate it. But I can barely move."

Jooheon pouts, smoothing his hands along the blanket. Minhyuk stirs underneath them. "Can I see your face?"

He's sure that Minhyuk will decline, but slowly, the duvet pulls down, revealing a headful of bedraggled, red hair and bloodshot eyes. Jooheon gently traces Minhyuk's jawline with a finger.

"Do I look like shit?"

"Yeah," Jooheon smiles.

Minhyuk laughs as if it hurts to. "I love you."

"I love you, too." His best friend smiles, and then flutters his eyes closed. "Do you want me to leave now?"

"No," he says with a quick shake of his head, eyes flying open again. "Please no."

Jooheon slides into the bed with him, arms wrapping around Minhyuk's waist and pulling his body into him. All at once, Minhyuk relaxes. His face buried in his neck, a hand gripping on the sleeve of Jooheon's jacket so easily as his fingers lace through the messy strands of hair. It pains him to see Minhyuk hurting, knowing that there's nothing he can possibly do besides stroking his hair and hope that maybe, just maybe, that this will be somewhere near enough to get him out of bed.

"They've been coming back," Minhyuk quietly mentions, suddenly. Jooheon's hand pauses in his hair. "I don't know what to do."

It's been a while since _they_ have been brought up. He isn't sure if they have names, or if Minhyuk can only hear them, but something bad seems to happen any time that he mentions them.

"They're not real, hyung."

"I don't know," he murmurs. "I'm not sure anymore."

"They're not real," Jooheon says again, firmly. He brushes his hair back and presses a kiss to his hairline. Minhyuk lifts his head to look at him with tears filling his eyes. "These thoughts aren't either. Everything is okay, hyung. You're going to be okay."

"Yeah," Minhyuk whispers.

Seconds pass of silence, their foreheads bumping, and then Minhyuk's face pulls into a smile. It's small and shaky, but it's so, _so_ beautiful. Jooheon holds him tightly to his chest, finger tracing invisible patterns in his skin.

"I love you," Jooheon reminds him, because he needs Minhyuk to know.

"I love you, too." His smile widens a little, teeth pressing into his lip. "I don't know why I told you to go. I'm so glad you don't listen to me."

Everything seems okay after that. Minhyuk had _smiled_ —it usually took forever for him to do that—and Jooheon makes sure that Minhyuk hops into the shower before he heads home. It doesn't really matter, though. Once the next day rolls around, Minhyuk doesn't answer any of his texts, any of his calls, even the door is left unanswered. Jooheon tries to wait it out.

Soon, his texts don't deliver. It's been a while, anyway. Jooheon assumes by now Minhyuk doesn't care enough to pay his phone bill. Nonetheless, Jooheon still spams him, because it silences his parents' screams, and there's still a little hope inside of him manipulated into believing there's a possibility that his message will find its way to Minhyuk and he'll reply.

It takes a while before Jooheon becomes tired of himself just sat there, bored, listening to his thoughts too clearly, and he takes a bus to Minhyuk's. It feels a little rude dropping in unexpectedly. Their neighborhoods aren't side-by-side anymore. Jooheon knows he can't just pop into Minhyuk's house whenever he desires like he had when they were young. He does anyway.

This time, Hyunwoo opens the door for him. He doesn't seem as collapsed with concern as Kihyun had, pulling the straps of a backpack onto his shoulders and greeting Jooheon with a kind smile.

The teenager quickly bows. "Are you doing well?"

"Yeah, I am," he says. "And you?"

"Yeah, I'm doing pretty okay." It's mostly a lie, but Jooheon knows there is really no point in ever replying with anything else. Hyunwoo happily nods at this response and awkwardly stands there for whatever else Jooheon thinks of to say. "Um, is Minhyuk doing all right?"

"I'm not sure. He's still in bed."

Jooheon opens his mouth for other questions—there is so much more that he has—but he realizes that Hyunwoo's darting his eyes in between the road and him, and he feels a little bad for even attempting to speak to him. "I'm holding you up," Jooheon sheepishly laughs. "See you around then."

Hyunwoo just smiles and lowers his head, waving a half-eaten apple before trailing off down the road. 

Minhyuk's door has surprisingly been left opened, but it looks the same. Dark, untidy, melancholy. His best friend lies underneath the blankets in a heap, his bare foot limply hanging from the end of the bed. It's almost as if he isn't even there. Jooheon wonders how much time has passed since he's even moved from this spot.

"I'm back," he says. The blanket stirs, barely, before Minhyuk's foot is pulled underneath the heap of blankets. "Move over."

Slowly, Minhyuk obliges to make room, but there's still hardly any space for Jooheon to sit. The younger boy decides plopping onto him instead.

"So," he speaks, "I see we're still here."

Silence.

"I miss you," Jooheon tells him. He pulls his legs to his chest, teeth absently chewing at his lips. "I miss you a lot. Please, hyung, get out of bed."

Silence.

"Do it for me, if nothing."

Jooheon finds his reflection on Minhyuk's white walls, the tickets to their first concert, the photo of them from two years ago. He stands to his feet and scrutinizes it for a distraction, squinting at their faces in the night. Minhyuk so bright. So happy. 

"I know that ballet company meant everything to you," Jooheon says. His voice is quiet. He's not even sure that Minhyuk can hear him, but he continues anyway, smudging a light fingerprint to the photo. "But the world isn't over. I promise. There are so many opportunities out there waiting for you, and they're not in your bed, or your room."

He pulls his eyes from the mirror and stares at the heap of blankets again.

"There's always another try for the ballet company. This isn't the Minhyuk I know. Surely, my best friend would be working his ass off so that his next audition will get him an acceptance letter —"

"It's not just about the ballet company," the blankets speak.

And, well, now he's entirely confused.

"Then what is it, hyung?"

That's about as much as Minhyuk plans on explaining to him. He makes no move to elaborate, or look to Jooheon's furrowed brows even as the younger boy inches to the bed again.

"You can't just say that, and then not tell me what happened."

Apparently, Minhyuk can. The blankets remain entirely still. Jooheon isn't sure why he can't just _tell_ him. They've been best friends for so long. They share everything with each other, because that's just what best friends do. Friends tell each other secrets. Jooheon expects to hear all of Minhyuk's.

It's only happened once that Minhyuk hasn't told him a secret. One single time that he can actually recall. It was when Jooheon had went to find him after piano lessons. He thinks that he was thirteen then, and Minhyuk was fourteen — the time when they'd both practiced in the same building. The ballet studio was on the second floor of the building, the dance hall, where Jooheon had been able to meet him whilst returning sheet music the instructor needed for a recital. They'd become friends easily, since they both knew most of all the same songs and their lessons always began and ended at the same time.

Minhyuk was nowhere to be found after piano lessons, though. Jooheon tried calling him and checking outside, even trying to find the ballet instructor who, on any other day, would still hang around. He, too, was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't until an hour later that Jooheon stumbled across Minhyuk in the dressing room, his things scattered across the floor along with the large bag specifically for ballet class and his favorite pair of purple tights left on the floor, ripped. Jooheon spotted him sat against a cubby, a pink music box in his lap that seemed familiar, and he'd just sat there, hair tousled. He hadn't even really changed yet. Jooheon didn't remember him wearing a plain, white tee shirt when they'd met at the door of the building, and he's still wearing his dance belt.

"Hyung?" Jooheon called. 

Minhyuk opened the music box, filling the small room with a tune Jooheon remembered. It sounded different, though. Ruined. Jooheon inched a little closer, hesitantly, and then —

His heart seemed to quicken a bit. A little abnormally. So hard that it'd felt as if the pain in his ribs weren't just from his imagination.

There was blood. Not a lot, but blood nonetheless. The scratches on the inside of Minhyuk's small thighs were the first thing that Jooheon had noticed. He instantly knelt by his best friend's side, hit with a wave of nausea at the red mark on Minhyuk's cheek and all over his neck. 

"Minhyuk," Jooheon breathed.

"The ballerina is broken," Minhyuk whispered. Jooheon slowly looked to the music box where he remembered a blonde ballerina used to spin in the center to pretty music, a red smile painted on her tiny lips. Now, she was just a body twirling to a shattered song. "My music box is broken. She's broken."

"What happened?" Jooheon didn't know why they were whispering, but it'd just felt wrong speaking any louder.

"I don't know how to fix it."

"Hyung, what _happened?_ "

Minhyuk snapped the box closed. The music—noise, really—abruptly stopped.

"What happened?" Jooheon asked again. Minhyuk finally looked at him, eyes empty. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said, emotionless.

"Who did this to you?" 

There was a long silence. Minhyuk stared. If it weren't for the quivering of his lips, Jooheon wouldn't have ever thought that he were breaking.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asked.

Slowly, Minhyuk shook his head, and Jooheon left it alone because he'd thought that was what good best friends did for each other. Jooheon was bad with knowing when and when not to leave things alone. He thinks Minhyuk was hospitalized two or three days after that, and this time he's not being stupid enough to let that happen again.

He manages to roll Minhyuk over just a little for him to fit on the bed and says meaningless things to him for hours. Anyway, it feels good talking. Jooheon tells him how Changkyun is doing and some of the funny things he remembers from class when he actually goes, and how much he hates Mr. Byun and all of his stupid tests and unhelpful study guides. Minhyuk never says anything, but Jooheon knows he's awake because he moves sometimes, chuckling at some of Jooheon's jokes, and it makes him happy that he can do something besides sitting there and feeling helpless.

Eventually, he hears the front door opening, Kihyun in the hallway happily saying something to Hyunwoo, and he glances at the screen of his phone to see that it's been almost three hours. "Well," Jooheon mutters, "I guess I should get going now. If you want to tell me what's wrong before I leave, then you can."

Jooheon sits in anticipation, staring intently at the heap concealing his best friend. But Minhyuk doesn't bother moving. Not even an inch.

He sighs in defeat and pushes himself from the bed to leave.

"Play me something," the blankets suddenly speak.

Jooheon pauses his footsteps on the carpet. "Play you something?"

He hums.

"When was the last time I did that?" Jooheon mutters with a soft chuckle. Minhyuk doesn't reply. The blankets stir slightly, but that's about as much as he gets from him. Reluctantly, Jooheon walks backwards until he reaches the foot of Minhyuk's bed and sits. "You don't have a piano."

"Closet."

Furrowing his brows, Jooheon pushes himself onto his feet again. There's a black keyboard in Minhyuk's closet, for whatever reason, the cord rolled up and sat atop the keys. "Hyung," he laughs, "you really need to stop buying random things."

"Liked it," Minhyuk mumbles. His words are slow and spaced out in a way that Jooheon isn't used to hearing them. "Made me think of you."

A smile curls at Jooheon's lips. It takes some time for him to pull the keyboard out of the closet and find an outlet that isn't plugged with something unimportant. He returns at the foot of Minhyuk's bed as soon as he's set up, not even having to familiarize himself with the instrument. "What would you like me to play?"

"I don't know," Minhyuk replies. He sighs. "Just — something that'll get me to eat."

So, Jooheon plays.

It's some song he remembers from middle school that he thinks Minhyuk likes, but there are lots of songs Jooheon plays that Minhyuk likes. He'd stopped playing the piano a while ago, and Minhyuk always complained about how much he only ever wanted to hear a piano if Jooheon was playing it. Jooheon knew that it was an exaggeration, but he liked hearing it.

The piano had never been for him, though. It was only something his parents forced him to do since they didn't want him sat around the house all the time. But he plays because he likes Minhyuk's smile, even if now he can't even see it. He knows it's there.

Jooheon's fingers pause on the keys, and he lets the sound die before cutting off the keyboard. "So? Was that enough?"

Silence.

"Hyung," Jooheon calls with an impatient raise of his voice, "are you going to eat?"

"In —" Minhyuk lets out a yawn, and then starts again, voice trailing off with each word, "In a few seconds. Promise."

But he's already falling asleep.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

"I don't know why you still come around."

Jooheon looks at him. Minhyuk is sitting up in bed today. It's an improvement at least, even the curtains were opened a little, the window cracked to let the air in, when Jooheon came to visit for the day. But Minhyuk had asked him to close them before sitting down. The wind still brushed against the curtain with a skinny leak of moonlight.

"Because I love you," Jooheon simply replies with a smile. He crawls in bed beside Minhyuk and lets him rest his head in his lap. 

"Even when I push you away?"

The curtain rustles by the window. Jooheon rubs Minhyuk's arms when he buries himself deeper into the blankets. "Even then."

"But why?"

"Because I know that you don't want to push me away," the younger boy tells him.

Minhyuk nods, distracted, his eyes locked on the curtains, but still somewhere far away. "Jooheon-ah," he says, "sometimes I wish that you would stop coming around."

"Why?"

"I just don't want this to be your life," he mutters. "I'm only going to get worse, and I don't want you sitting around trying to take care of me. You have a long way to go here."

"You do, too."

"Do I?" Minhyuk's voice cracks when he opens his mouth again. "I can't even get out of bed."

There's a silence. Jooheon's teeth chew at his lips until it hurts. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing."

"No, what are you saying?"

"I just —" Minhyuk sits up slowly and turns to face him, blanket falling from his shoulders. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come around anymore."

It must show on Jooheon's face how _absurd_ of a statement that is. He opens his mouth instantly to argue, to protest, but Minhyuk calmly holds up his hand to keep him silent.

"I'm trying to look out for you. As your hyung," he explains.

And Jooheon wishes there were more of an explanation than that. It makes no sense, really. It angers Jooheon, and then it saddens him a little, because sometimes Minhyuk just says things in a way as if he really doesn't have any idea how much he means to Jooheon. He wonders how long he's been sat here thinking of how Jooheon should move on with his life, as if he hasn't made up most of it.

"That's," Jooheon furrows his brows, "that's absolutely bizarre. Why did you think you could even say that?"

"My issues shouldn't drag you down, and that's exactly what they're doing. It's like the more and more you come to visit me, the more you waste away, and I can't do that to you. I can't."

"You're not doing anything to me," Jooheon argues.

Minhyuk quickly shakes his head at this. "I'm not an idiot. I see what I do to you. You hate when I'm like this."

"No, you are an idiot, because you think I'd actually just get up and leave you." Jooheon slips his hands onto his shoulders, following Minhyuk's eyes when he tries to look away. "I'm not leaving you no matter what. I don't care how sad you get. I don't care if one day you get tired of seeing me. _I don't care._ I will never care. I will always be here."

"But why?" Minhyuk asks, brown eyes pooling with tears. "Why do you put up with this?"

"Because I know you'd do the same for me."

The curtain rustles against the window again, and Minhyuk kisses him. 

This time, Jooheon gets the chance to flutter his eyes closed. He finds himself pulling Minhyuk's body into him as if it's involuntary, the other boy's hand resting on the side of his neck and pushing into his hair so softly. Everything about Minhyuk seems to be soft. His kiss is a little more rough than Jooheon remembers, so much more sure, yet his lips still somehow feel as light as a feather.

A hand holds onto Jooheon's side, the way Minhyuk had held him before, carefully easing the younger boy against the headboard. Jooheon doesn't think he's supposed to love how his best friend feels against him, if he's supposed to like the way Minhyuk's fingers feel on his skin, like the way it feels as if Minhyuk is flowing into his bloodstream.

Jooheon pulls him into his lap, and they slowly break away from each other for air, their heavy breaths the only sound in the room. Minhyuk curls into him as the wind sweeps the room again, their noses brushing, before they're kissing again. Minhyuk holds onto him so tightly, so desperately, arms wrapping around the younger boy as if he'll never hold him again, as if whenever he pulls away, Jooheon will be gone. 

"I'm sorry," Minhyuk whispers. His eyes are glossy again when their foreheads find each other, but even with wet lashes he manages a small smile. "I shouldn't have told you to stop coming around. I'm sorry."

"Let's just forget about it," Jooheon decides. He stares at his mouth, the way its corners upturn slightly, and quickly kisses him again, looking away as fast as his lips leave. Minhyuk's smile widens.

It's easy to forget about it. Minhyuk pulls him into his chest when he lies down to go to sleep, both of his hands resting on his belly, their legs tangling under the sheets, and Jooheon feels as if everything is falling into place. Slowly, but it's better than not at all.

"Jooheon-ah."

He hums, feeling Minhyuk's cheek resting against his. 

"Tell me that you love me."

"I love you," Jooheon says, easily. 

He knows that Minhyuk smiles. His arms tighten around him, a kiss planted below his ear.

"I love you, too."

And then they're silent.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

The curtain is pushed open the next morning. Jooheon can feel the soft warmth against his face, the burst of sunlight peeking through the darkness behind his eyelids. Slowly, he peels them open, and yawns. The space beside him is empty.

Minhyuk left him wrapped in the blankets, tucked in deliberately, as he always does before he leaves Jooheon in a bed. A smile tugs at his lips. Minhyuk seems to always just have an urge to take care of him. Jooheon can't really say that he's bothered by it.

The room feels different. At least, Jooheon thinks so.

He quickly rubs two fist at his eyes as he sits up, another yawn slipping his lips, scrutinizing the room, trying to understand. Everything seems the same. The plastic desk, the posters, the nightstand alongside Minhyuk's bed. Jooheon furrows his brows and slowly steps onto his feet. 

It's then that he notices the closet. Door left open, the keyboard set up outside of it, and he steps a few more times, slowly, to find that it's entirely empty.

Jooheon doesn't really understand, but he knows that instantly he does. His heart races, beating against his chest so vigorously it's almost as if he can hear it. He searches each drawer of the plastic desk and is only met with pens, markers, and other stupid things that Minhyuk doesn't really need. The sewing machine is gone, he notices, and he searches the only drawers for anything, honestly anything, but is only met with emptiness.

The carpet has been cleaned of all the clothes Minhyuk carelessly tosses off, every book. Jooheon only finds the old ballet shoes tucked away in the bottom drawer of his plastic desk where the rejection letter from the ballet company is. The _acceptance_ letter, he finds out, but his heart is still wildly thumping at his chest because nothing makes sense. Nothing. A form is still attached to it, untouched, with a deadline that's passed days ago.

 _"Minhyuk,"_ he calls, aloud, as if he actually expects an answer.

The mirror is the last thing he checks. His hair is tousled in the glass, skin pale. He isn't surprised that their photograph from two years ago is gone, too, along with the ticket to their first concert, a folded sheet of notebook paper instead in its place. Jooheon slowly pulls it from the corner of the mirror and unfolds it. He almost flattens it over his lap until he realizes it's not really a letter. It's just one word, scribbled in the center with Minhyuk's handwriting, as if he'd been in a rush.

_Sorry._

The paper slips from his fingers.

Jooheon feels like screaming, but he can only stare at where their photo used to be, his fist clenched by his side until he realizes that his cheeks are wet and sees the streak of tears in his reflection.

 

 

 

. . .

 

 

 

The sun is bright when Jooheon walks along the train track, hands buried in his pockets, backpack thrown off in the grass with his blazer. 

"Long time, no see," Changkyun greets when he joins him. Jooheon can only offer a halfhearted smile.

At the broken stoplight, they drink banana milk. 

**Author's Note:**

> i accidentally posted this from my drafts a while ago and i had a mini heart attack omfg... i don't know if anyone is subscribed to me, but bless you
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated! hmu on my ~~new~~ [tumblr](https://nottechae.tumblr.com/) and my [honeypup tumblr](https://joominty.tumblr.com/)!!


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